Chapter 23

Christian puts everything together in an instant – where this grate leads, what, precisely, that noise he just heard was. I give another panicked squeak and push myself away – but I’m unbalanced now and can’t quite push myself back to the dresser on my exhausted arms. I gasp, looking down at the floor in panic as I try to stand up straight –

But suddenly the door to the room flies open, and Christian is striding towards me, his face livid. Just as I lose my balance, plummeting straight for the floor, he grabs me and pulls me out of the air so that my weight falls on him and I’m able to put my feet on the ground. I mean, it’s not the most graceful landing –

But I didn’t fall on my ass.

Still, none of that matters as I look up into Christian’s furious face, my chest and stomach still pressed firmly to his side.

“What the fuck are you doing, Iris!?”

I just shake my head, because – I mean, obviously he knows what I’m doing. I’m distracted, though, by the scent of blood – and as I look down at his shirt I see the man’s blood there – still bright red, and warm, and smelling of iron –

Suddenly, I gag. The scent, and the sight of blood splashed across a man’s chest – it’s just too familiar. I squeeze my eyes shut, turning away from the memories of my childhood – those horrible days…

“God damn it,” Chrisitan growls, setting me hard upon my feet and grasping my arm, giving me a shake. “Get in the bathroom, Iris!”

“I won’t look again, I promise!” I shake my head, my eyes still closed. His hand tightens on my warm.

“The. Bathroom. Now.” I open my eyes, looking up to see him speaking the words between his teeth. Quite suddenly, I know that now is not the time now to defy him. I nod once, and head immediately for the bathroom. Christian follows me, slamming the door shut behind me. I turn to stare at it, at the perfect white paint, the solid wood, as I hear the lock click from the outside.

I exhale all at once as my knees go a little weak, my hands starting to shake with the shock of it all, the intensity. Without thinking of what I’m doing, I sink to the bathroom floor and press my hands against the cold tiles, letting my head hang as I take deep breaths through my nose and out my mouth.

Christian – my kind friend.

I can’t believe it – can’t believe that this is where his life has taken him. I mean, I knew the Mafia King has a reputation for horrible acts, and I knew that Christian is that Mafia King, but still, I didn’t quite…put it together.

The sight of him ruthlessly punching that man, and threatening his children, and then cutting his face…

God, is Christian just as bad as the man who wanted to make me work in his cathouse to pay off Steven’s debts? And if Steven owed money to Christian instead…would I…would I be in danger as well?

The fact that I can’t instantly say “no” to this idea is so horrible that tears start to fall down my cheeks, dragging over my chin to splash on the plain white tiled floor. I shake my head, not understanding it, not able to put the pieces together.

The boy who called me daisy because it made me smile…how did he grow to be this man? This cold, ruthless man?

I don’t know how much time passes – I completely lose track of it as I just stare at the floor, rifling through my memories, trying to deny the images that flash through my brain – both of Christian now, and of my father when I was a child…

But when the door opens again, my hands and my legs, where they’re pressed to the floor, are very, very cold. I lift my head to see Christian standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at me.

Neither of us say anything for a long, long moment.

And then he sighs, stepping forward and holding a hand out to me.

For a long moment I just stare at his hand, so long that Christian takes another step forward, holding it closer, insistent. And then I reach for him, slipping my fingers against his palm, letting me pull me to my feet.

“Are you all right?” he murmurs as I find my balance, realizing that my legs are numb in some places.

I just look up at him, staring a little. To my surprise, this makes him narrow his eyes.

“I told you to go into your room, Iris, and not to look.”

“You didn’t tell me not to look,” I say, the words falling from my lips before I think about them, accompanied by a frown.

He narrows his eyes further. “Did I need to? Did you think I’d want you to be spying through the air vent?”

I scowl now, knowing he’s right, but not wanting to admit that I defied him. He smirks at me, I think maybe a little pleased, or entertained, and he slips an arm around my shoulders, pulling me out into the much warmer room.

“Is he…is he gone?” I ask, my voice quiet.

“Don’t worry about that,” he says, his voice sharper.

“Can I –“

“Iris,” Christian sighs, his arm dropping from my shoulder as he turns to glare at me again. “Just stay in your room. Don’t ask any questions. The more you get involved in this, the more danger you’re in.”

I frown at him, angrier now. “Looks like I’m in danger either way, Christian! Should I be ignorant of it as well? What if – what if it was someone with a gun, or something? I could have hid under the bed –“

“If you’d needed to hide under the bed I’d have told you to hide under the bed –“

“Christian,” I sigh, stepping away from him and crossing my arms across my chest. “I am not just your little puppet, here for you to boss around who just does whatever you say. I’m a real person, and this is my life. I need…I need some knowledge about what is happening, I need to make some choices.”

Christian slips his hands into his pockets, looking me up and down with a frown on his face. “I disagree,” he says simply, giving a shrug.

“Great!” I say, throwing my hands up into the air with a sigh and storming over to the bureau, where I’ve made some space for some clothing for myself, intending to get changed into some pajamas.

“Iris, I’ve explained this –“ Christian snaps, getting angrier with me now. And I should probably be afraid of that, considering what I just saw, but I’m starting to get pissed now too.

“Yes, and you expect me to just accept your explanation and bow and say thank you, Mafia King!” I pull a soft set of pajamas out of the drawer and turn to glare at him. His eyes are narrowed at me again, almost to slits. “I may be your prisoner, Christian, but I’m also your friend. You owe me more than this!”

“I’ve given you your life, Iris,” he growls, storming closer to me, glaring down into my face. “What the hell else do you want?”

“Respect,” I seethe, my teeth clenched now. “I want to know what’s going on.”

“No,” he replies, stubborn. “There are rules –“

“Your rules,” I sigh, turning away from him and starting to pull off my top, knowing it will make him uncomfortable, make him leave. “Goodnight, Christian.”

“Iris –“

“If you’re going to be so stubborn, then I am done having his conversation,” I say, pulling my top all the way off and turning to glare at him, wearing only my bra.

Christian glares right back and, to his credit, his eyes don’t drop at all to my half-naked form. Instead, he just snaps his head away and strides for the door, pulling it open and slamming it behind him when he goes.

I turn the light off and finish getting changed. Then I lay back in my bed, wondering how we went from laughing over churros to this tonight.

And if we’ll ever, ever get back to where we were.